


Windward

by thewhitebirds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhitebirds/pseuds/thewhitebirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People always said Lucius Malfoy was a fair-weather friend. Even after a lifetime, Severus was never sure if he agreed or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Windward

  
_O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,_   
_Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you._   
(T.S. Eliot, _The Waste Land_ )   


He was lost already.

The process should have been simple. Severus had gone over it with Eileen at least ten times in a low voice while Tobias was in the bathroom. _Say "Diagon Alley" very clearly into the Floo. Next, go to Ollivander's to buy a wand. Then Flourish and Blotts for books. Owls are too expensive. So are Madame Malkin's robes--those can be found secondhand._ But he had stuttered in the fireplace, paralyzed momentarily by fear, and the sign in front of him now read _Knockturn_ Alley. Severus couldn't see any of the gleaming buildings Eileen had described in hushed tones. The dilapidated stores and piles of garbage reminded him very strongly of Spinner's End, not some new magical world. To make things worse, a group of scowling thugs were whispering and looking straight at him. Severus knew he would have to run. But where? At least in Cokeworth he knew the best places to hide. He looked around frantically. This had all been a terrible mistake.

"You, with the grey coat! Are you lost?" An amused voice called out from the other side of the street.

"Yes! Er, I mean, no," Severus stammered, changing his mind when he saw who the voice belonged to. He recognized the type from Spinner's End. This was the kind of boy that lived on the other side of town and paid people to beat up kids like him. Well-dressed, about sixteen, blonde hair slicked back, lounging against a side of a building, cigarette in hand. He caught the gleam of a signet ring in the dim light. No, this was not the kind of boy who helped lost people. "I'm fine, thanks."

The boy just shrugged and stamped out the cigarette as he turned away. "Suit yourself. But _I_ am going to Diagon Alley, which is _that_ way. If you don't want to go, by all means risk it with Scabior and the others over there and let me know if _they_ help you."

Severus followed.

"You're going to be a first year, aren't you?" The boy asked as they turned down a side street. "What's your name?"

"Severus," he responded reluctantly, trying hard to memorize the jigsaw puzzle of streets they were walking briskly down.

"I meant _surname_ , of course."

"Snape."

The older boy stopped without warning and Severus almost crashed into him. "I don't recognize it," he sneered. "Is it _Muggle_?"

 _It doesn't make any difference_ , Eileen had said. But the revulsion in the pale, narrow face in front of him seemed to establish quite the contrary. "My mother's surname is Prince," Severus offered quickly.

The blonde boy relaxed. "Oh, I've heard of the Princes. Well, _Severus_ , if you're really that new around here, you'll soon learn that some wizards are... shall we say, of a better _caliber_ than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." They turned around another corner. "And here's Diagon Alley. See you at school."

 _Try to be friendly_ , Eileen had said. "And who are you?" Severus called out, tearing his eyes away from the spectacle of the bustling street. He realized he that he sounded more sullen than friendly. Maybe he needed to practice? But being friendly was easy with Lily.

"Those two are Crabbe and Goyle," said the boy, gesturing towards two boulder-like boys waiting in front of The Leaky Cauldron. "And I'm Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy."

* * *

_He would recount the trip in great detail to Eileen, in whispers, of course, as they looked over his wand and books. He wouldn't mention the Knockturn detour, because she had enough to worry about as it was. And by the time he reached the train station with Lily, he had almost forgotten about it himself._

_It was only when the hat shouted Gryffindor for her and Slytherin for him that he would remember everything. Malfoy clapped him on the back with congratulations and he sat down next to a boy called Avery, overwhelmed by the seemingly limitless feast and trying not to think about how many times Eileen had assured him that no, houses didn't matter_ that _much, but Gryffindor and Slytherin_ really _hated each other._

* * *

The October leaves crunched underfoot as Severus left the library. Hogwarts, he had written to Eileen, was just as wonderful as her stories claimed. The beds. The library. The classes. The _food_. He still wasn't sure about the people. Slytherin in particular seemed to be a strict, silent hierarchy and he still didn't know all the rules. It wasn't that the others were _rude_ , exactly--they just clearly didn't know what to make of him after that incident last week with the Bat-Bogey Hex. "That's at _least_ fourth year standard," Leonidas Mulciber had awkwardly volunteered, but Severus had made no effort to continue the conversation. Malfoy, who unsurprisingly strutted around as if he owned the castle, continued to be cordial. Still, as of yesterday, Severus would have maintained that Lily was his only friend here. As of today morning, he was confused.

He moved into the crisp air of the courtyard, where Lucius was lounging on a bench, aimlessly paging through _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

"Malfoy, can we talk?" Severus vainly tried to prevent his too-large robes from flapping in the breeze.

"Hello, _Severus_ ," Lucius drawled, sitting up and tearing his eyes away away from a blonde girl and her friends on the other side of the courtyard. "How are classes? I'm supposed to ask all the first years, on Slughorn's orders."

"They're fine, I guess," he said, picking at the frayed hem of his sleeve. "I just wanted to say... I know that you had Selwyn and Travers hex Black and Potter when they were trying to jump me after breakfast. I don't need the charity." The words came out in a rush.

"Big words from someone who can barely prevent himself from tripping over his own robes," Lucius said snidely. "Listen," he added, "It's not _charity_. I don't believe in charity. It's only common sense, considering that the rest of the Houses hate us. It also looks bad on Slytherin upperclassmen if we allow the others to walk all over the first years."

Severus scowled. He didn't want any part in a system of favors; he hated owing people things. He also hated relying on other people for anything, because they were usually stupid. But this was obviously how Slytherin operated, and there didn't seem to be any choice.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, he finally asked, "I don't have to _thank_ them, do I?"

"You could teach them the Bat-Bogey Hex," Lucius drawled. "I have to admit, though, most of us take time to cultivate enemies. How have you ended up with some in a month?"

Severus didn't know what to say. It was hard to explain the mutual loathing that had appeared the first moment he set eyes on James Potter and Sirius Black. "I guess it's because I'm friends with a girl in Gryffindor and they don't like it," he managed to say.

"It's always that, isn't it," he smirked. His attention was focused on the blonde girl under the tree again. She threw her head back and laughed, the sun gilding patterns on her face. Severus left, robes flapping behind him like misshapen wings.

* * *

 _Lucius wouldn't ask which girl it was until next year. They would be sitting around the fire in the Slytherin common room: Lucius on a sofa, supremely pleased to have Narcissa Black resting her head on his shoulder, Evan Rosier and Nicholas Avery alternating Exploding Snap with shots of Firewhisky, Severus sitting cross-legged on the floor, scribbling notes in the margin of his potions book._ Not two cups of beetle eyes, _he would think,_ Just one. __

_"Severus, who's your friend in Gryffindor?" Lucius would ask casually, as if picking up the conversation from last October and ignoring the million other conversations in between. Narcissa would look up from her letter, blue eyes slightly narrowed with interest._

_"Lily," he would reply without hesitation. Of course, he would regret it immediately, because Lily was and always should have been a secret. Maybe it was because he was surrounded by almost-friends for the first time ever, or maybe it was because he had been thinking of her (as he often did). The name was on the tip of his tongue before Lucius asked, and it spilled out, like a whisper, like a wish. Lily._

* * *

"I heard you had a near-death experience with the Whomping Willow," Lucius said. The usual din of the London streets outside the Leaky Cauldron was a faint hum from the private room they were sitting in. The windows were shuttered and locked, leaving the room stifling in the July heat.

Severus scowled blackly at the wineglass in front of him, trying to ignore the sheen of sweat on his forehead. "If it had been any Headmaster besides Dumbledore, there would have been expulsions. There _ought_ to have been expulsions."

"Mmm, well, life isn't fair," Lucius replied, adjusting his dragon hide gloves. He did not seem bothered by the sweltering temperature at all. "As much as I love hearing about Dumbledore's staggering incompetence, I don't have much time and I want us to discuss other things. Have you given any thought to what you want to do after Hogwarts?"

The only question anyone ever cared about. He could feel the headache arriving soon. Severus sighed. "With my scores in potions, I can get the potion master certification in probably a year. During which I suppose I'll be at an apothecary. Slug & Jiggers and Bobbin's are all hiring."

Lucius looked mildly appalled. "What a colossal waste of time."

" _Well_ ," Severus hissed, standing up, "I apologize for not having a fortune at my disposal. _Some_ of us need to work to eat, Malfoy." He was ready to leave. The divisions between them could be ignored at school, but they would always exist. Always. At the end of the day, people like Malfoy and Leo Mulciber spent their weekday evenings drinking cognac at the Athenaeum Club and he spent his trying to figure out how to pay for groceries. Why he had agreed to waste a summer afternoon baking in the Leaky Cauldron was beyond him.

( _Because_ , a nagging voice whispered in his head, _You usually spend summer afternoons with Lily, but she won't talk to you._ )

"Oh, settle down, Severus," Lucius smirked, refilling their glasses. "Have you considered the route Mulciber and Avery are taking? There are a lot of... shall we say, _opportunities_ in that direction."

Well, that explained the need for a private room and shuttered windows. Severus sat down, mopping his forehead with his sleeve. Malfoy had probably been recruited right after graduation, he figured. Other good guesses were Travers and Rabastan Lestrange. And of course, after what Mulciber had done to Mary Macdonald last year he would be dying to join up. This was the direction the wind was blowing. He drained the glass. "What you and that boys' club of yours seem to forget when it's convenient, Malfoy, is that I am not a pureblood."

"Details," Lucius waved off the implications of having a muggle father vaguely. "Considering your talents, it won't matter. We're looking for talented potioneers. _He_ is looking for potioneers."

Severus drummed his fingers on the table. _This is the way you lose Lily_ , the voice in his head warned him. But he had already lost her, hadn't he? Hadn't he seen her, having a conversation with James Potter, and _smiling_? "I'm not sure what's in it for me."

Lucius leaned across the table, lip curling. "Everything. The ideals are only a _part_ of this, Severus. Money. Glory. Revenge. The kind of resources to study whatever you want. Freedom to direct your own life. There will be a war--there's no question about it now. You just need to figure out if you want to come with us or risk it out there, with _them_."

"I'll think about it."

"Suit yourself." Lucius stood up to leave. "You know where to reach me."

* * *

_He would owl Lily a few more times without response for the rest of the summer. She barely would say hello on the Hogwarts Express in the fall, busy and vibrant as Head Girl. He would spend more time in the library, theoretically studying for N.E.W.T.s, but in reality trying to figure out how to fix this. He would draft owls and never send them. He would scowl at first years. His unpopularity would increase, if it were possible. He would sit in the back of the class sulking, hair unwashed, ink stains on his sleeves._

_He would see her kissing James Potter by the lake, red hair a bright beacon. That night, would send an owl to Malfoy Manor._

* * *

Severus was still out of breath as he collapsed on the leather sofa in Manor's library. Lucius entered two minutes later, face grim, wincing as he sat in an armchair. "That's the last enchantment up. Rodolphus just flooed in to say that he and Bellatrix made it back. No word on Evan or the Wilkes girl yet--Narcissa is trying to contact them."

Severus just shook his head. Evan Rosier had always been a hothead, but tonight's mission had been botched from start to finish. They had practically walked into an Auror trap; Rodolphus was going to regret calling the scouts back early as soon as the Dark Lord caught wind of it. "Evan _never_ follows retreat orders."

Lucius was pouring himself a glass of brandy and didn't respond. He did not offer one to Severus. "Before she gets back"--his tone of voice had changed completely, though it might have been sheer exhaustion--"I need to know about the prophecy."

Severus sat up straight, all resentment about the brandy gone. Rodolphus must have let something slip. "No. That's classified information, Lucius. I don't even know how you heard about it. If the Dark Lord sees fit to share it, then he will. It hardly concerns _you_."

Lucius drew his wand. "It concerns a child to be born _this summer_ , Severus," he snarled. "It concerns Narcissa. It concerns _my family_."

Severus couldn't prevent a look of disgust from emerging on his face at the dramatics unfolding. "It's classified, Malfoy. Sorry."

"Certainly, but you'll tell me what it says, right now." Lucius' voice had become quiet and deadly. "There are things I know about _you_ , Severus. You know that. I haven't said anything to anyone, but when it comes to Narcissa and this baby, I might become... _loose-tongued_."

"I cut those ties years ago," Severus snapped back, but his voice wasn't as steady as he would have liked. How _dare_ he threaten Lily. The _nerve_.

"So you say. Whose word is more valuable to the Dark Lord?" It was impossible to measure whose face contained more fury at that moment.

"The prophecy is about a child born at the end of _July_ to parents who have defied the Dark Lord multiple times," Severus finally snapped back. "Are you satisfied?"

Color was flooding back into Lucius' face. "July. Thank Merlin." The words came out choked.

"You shouldn't be _thanking Merlin_ ," Severus hissed. He was now standing too. "There are innocent families who _are_ affected by this. You've seen those plans; the Dark Lord has already-"

"The Potters and the Longbottoms, yes, of course. Though 'innocent' can hardly be used to describe _them_."

"Yes." Severus turned away from the fire, trying to control his irrational wave of anger. Normally, the sight of thousands of books in the Malfoy library would have been enough, but today he was about to burst from fatigue and anger. The Dark Lord was treating with the prophecy he had heard two days ago with all the seriousness Severus had thought necessary, but _Lily_ , he never thought it would be _Lily_ , but there was still a chance he would choose the the Longbottoms, but...

"You can't save her, you know." If he didn't know better, it almost sounded like pity in Malfoy's voice. "It's suicidal, Severus. She made her choice. You are better off finding someone who is worthy of your concern, who isn't a mudblood-"

Severus might have punched him if Narcissa hadn't entered the library just then, face stricken.

Lucius turned towards her immediately. "Evan?" he asked.

She just shook her head, eyes full of tears. Severus groaned and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

_He would try to save her anyway, and he would fail._

* * *

People still jumped at small noises, but the feeling in the air was different. They were overwhelmingly _happy_ in a way that disgusted Severus. Lily was gone--he had been to the ruins of the house himself--and yet, the sun continued to rise and set and the world seemed to be returning to normal. He was bitter and caustic, but a fresh-faced group of first years would still be here in a week. The only thing was to continue, Dumbledore had said, and because Severus had promised, he did. There was something oddly soothing about reorganizing the potion stores. _Wolfsbane to the left. Dried billywig stings above. Dried nettles in those boxes._

Turning, he sighed at seeing a familiar blonde figure in the doorway. "Is this an official visit for the Board of Governors?"

"Yes and no," Lucius replied. "This is your office? It's _exactly_ as I expected." He smirked.

Severus shrugged. "Don't knock over the armadillo bile. I'm going to keep working, if you don't mind. School starts next week. I'm sorry about your father, by the way." Lucius had been given his father's chair on the Board in recognition of Abraxas Malfoy's 'years of service', the _Daily Prophet_ had said, but Severus was fairly certain it was a euphemism for piles of galleons.

"Yes, well, his health was failing for a while and the strain of dragonpox was particularly bad." Lucius examined the room with interest. "You look comfortable. Are you enjoying playing Dumbledore's pet?"

"Well, are _you_ enjoying playing Imperius curse victim?"

"Touché. I _am_ enjoying not having a lifetime holiday in Azkaban." (He seemed, Severus noted, not to care at all about the plight of his sister-in-law, but then, she really _had_ brought that on herself. And the thought of Azkaban gave him some savage pleasure, though it was better than Sirius Black deserved after what he had done.)

Severus nodded warily, stacking jars of boomslang skin. "What would you have done if the Imperius idea had not worked?"

Lucius looked supremely smug. "There is no fathomable way it would not have worked, Severus. I don't think you understand the extent to which I _own_ the Wizengamot."

 _I hope you choke on that arrogance one day_ , he thought dourly. "So you're sure he's gone, then?"

"Of course." Lucius seemed surprised that he'd even asked. "He was just a man like the rest of us, and he's not coming back. Such a pity that some of our number can't cut their losses and move on."

* * *

 _After a while, he would begin to think that Lucius had a point. It_ was _over. He would still hate the first years and their squalling, but he wouldn't be able to help a surge of pride upon seeing the N.E.W.T. students and their finished Veritaserum, crystal clear._

_He would develop a careful, tentative friendship with Minerva McGonagall, solidified over glasses of sherry and games of Wizard's Chess. He would breathe freely. Sometimes, he would have to remind himself that the flickers of red around the corridors were Weasley children, not her. But it was bearable. He would even manage to smile with amusement at Draco Malfoy's Sorting, seeing the boy swagger over to the Slytherin table with an expression identical to Lucius' in the old days._

_But then, he would see her eyes again, wide and green and curious, sitting in the second row with the other Gryffindors. Something would feel like a knife in his stomach._

__No, Lucius, _he would think dully._ You can't just cut your losses and move on.

* * *

Severus cursed under his breath as he stumbled to avoid stepping on a peacock, standing resolutely in the middle of the garden's main path. Lucius smirked. "Even with the right size robes, you can't walk."

"Well," Severus smiled mirthlessly. "At least _I_ am not clumsy enough to lose a chair on the Board and a house elf in the same week."

It worked. Lucius glowered, momentarily at a loss for words. _The Daily Prophet_ had really gone to town over the newly vacant seat on the Board. "Sometimes, Severus, the best-laid plans fail."

"Evidently." Severus' lip curled. He was not sure how this had been a good plan to begin with, but Lucius never asked for advice. If he _had_ asked, Severus would have said that people really needed to stop underestimating Albus Dumbledore. "I am sure Narcissa was less than pleased."

Lucius actually winced at that. "If you value eating in peace, please don't bring it up at dinner. Though I am certain that she will."

Draco zipped by on his new Nimbus Two Thousand and One, narrowly missing their heads and letting out a gleeful whoop. Severus expected some kind of chastisement, but Lucius only looked amused. Typical.

"He's a talented flier, even if Quidditch season this year was nonexistent," Severus admitted. Minerva had hotly accused him of accepting bribery to equip the Slytherin team with better brooms than players, but the truth was that Draco had outflown Vaisey and Urquhart by a mile.

Lucius smiled. "If he keeps practicing, he'll easily be quite a lot better than I was." They turned and walked towards the house together.

* * *

_He wouldn't be surprised, really, when the Dark Lord returned. He would wonder how they could have all been so lazy, so stupid, as to believe it was over. It was never over. But because he had made a promise to Dumbledore, to Lily, he would force himself to continue moving forward, one day at a time._

_He hated making promises about anything, but when Narcissa screamed with despair on the floor in front of him, he would almost see Lily in the room._

__"It might be possible... for me to help Draco," _he would say, and it would all start over again._

* * *

"Are you here on official business?" Lucius asked dully. He looked gaunt and exhausted, an unshaven skeleton with expensive robes hanging from his shoulders. Severus shut the study door behind him in an attempt drown out the shrieking and the smashing of glass in the front hall. It didn't work.

"Yes and no," Severus replied crisply.

"Well, then, if you're only here to tell me what I ought to have done differently, you can leave."

"Are you actually expecting _sympathy_ right now, Lucius?" Severus was almost outraged. "You brought all of this upon yourself. Getting that large a group captured set plans back by months."

The old Lucius would have said something snide, but today he only looked vacantly off into space. Maybe Severus wanted everyone to feel the way he had felt when he failed Lily, but it was impossible to be completely unsympathetic towards the Malfoys. Surely, he had hinted to the Dark Lord the other day, there were more able Death Eaters for the endless torture and murder he was forcing Draco to commit. But the Dark Lord was enjoying each moment; there was nothing to be done.

"Two things. First, I think I ought to inform you that Amycus Carrow is complaining that he was browsing the art gallery and, er, the house attacked him."

Lucius' mouth twisted. "Is _that_ what he's saying now? He tried to steal a Caravaggio without considering the fact that my family has placed hundreds of years of protective spells on our art."

Severus nodded. "Second, I would like to appoint Draco Head Boy for this year, but I wanted to know if you think he can manage it with... the other work he is doing for our Lord."

"You should speak to Narcissa about that," Lucius replied, looking absently at a letter in his hands.

"I am asking you. You are the boy's father."

"I have no insight." Lucius replied wearily. "We barely speak these days."

"Well, he's disappointed in you," Severus said coldly, too irritated to lie and say that _of course_ Draco would immediately revert to hero-worshiping his father in a week. "After what you've always expected from him, to have this happen to _you_? You _failed_ them, you know. Narcissa is--"

"How _dare_ you."

Severus shrugged. "It's time for people to stop telling you only what you want to hear, Malfoy. It won't do you any favors in this situation," he added bluntly.

"Get out of my study."

Severus left.

* * *

_He would watch them fall to pieces as the rest of the world fell to pieces. He would wonder if he had promised too much (as he watched the Carrows discipline second years) or not enough (as he picked chandelier glass out of Draco's face). He would dream of Lily's eyes, wide and green and curious, sometimes in her laughing face, or sometimes in the boy's face, sitting in the second row._

__"It won't always be like this," _he would tell Narcissa, helping her drag an unconscious Lucius upstairs._ "I tell myself that too," _she would reply, forced calm in her voice._

* * *

The Dark Lord had summoned him. Severus waited outside the room in the Shrieking Shack, nerves humming. It was funny how, even after all these years, he still felt deep irritation and resentment towards the willow and this building. _A petty schoolboy's grudge_ , he told himself, but weren't those the things you remembered the most?

 _Try to be friendly,_ Eileen had said, but he had never had much luck with friends. In fact, he was better than losing them than keeping them. Minerva had been one, once, but he would never forget the look of hatred on her face when he had returned to Hogwarts as Headmaster. Avery and Mulciber, with their ribald jokes, were long gone. And of course, Lily. _Lily_.

In fact, the only people he could claim some level of cordiality with at this moment were the pariahs of the year, the Malfoys, but it couldn't be overtly shown. Lucius, if he was not mistaken, was groveling in the room in front of him now. You had to admire his tenacity where Draco was concerned.

Lucius emerged a moment later, looking more worn and bruised since Severus had last seen him. Despair was clear in the lines of his face. "He wants you, Severus," he said, voice cracking. There had always been divisions between them--competition, insecurity, some level of disgust. But maybe, Severus wondered, they had also spent the better part of twenty years misjudging each other. Or maybe they had secretly understood. In any case, it was too late to find out now.

Severus wasn't sure why, but he reached out and touched the other man's arm. "He's a clever boy, Lucius. You'll find him."

"I hope so," Lucius whispered hoarsely. "Take care, Severus." He moved away.

For a moment, Severus' thoughts lingered on the two boys in Knockturn Alley; the small one in the too-large coat and the older one, tall and smirking. He thought of the promises he had made. He thought of Lily. He opened the door, and walked into the room.

* * *

_He wouldn't be afraid at all._


End file.
